


next to you

by ootajins (verdantspace)



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Gen, M/M, lapslock, parasyte -the maxim-/kiseijyuu au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23015497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verdantspace/pseuds/ootajins
Summary: kiseijyuu!au. high school setting. ohno/yama-centric.based on the manga/anime Kiseijyuu/Parasyte –the maxim–a parasitic alien entity has taken over control of satoshi’s right hand. the entity has no idea where it came from, claiming to be a parasitic life form that by the time of its birth received a directive to take over the human brain. yet it failed, causing it to burrow into satoshi’s right hand, instead. it eventually takes on the name “migi” for convenience’s sake.on the other hand, sho is a high school delinquent with the uncanny ability to sense the brainwaves migi’s species emit, all the while unknowing of their true forms. satoshi and sho’s paths inevitably collide, resulting in chaos to break out all around them, and for them to relearn the nature of their relationship.
Relationships: Ohno Satoshi/Sakurai Sho
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	1. Host and parasite

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from one of arai ken’s beautiful [compositions](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UboPPTZLFas) for the show’s original soundtrack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i’m a weeb who had sworn off writing rpf but arashi stormed(get it?? get the pun???) into my life after 5 long yrs so here goes. sns is a scary, lovely lil thing.
> 
> anyways i’ve always wanted to make a kiseijyuu au bc that show owns my heart. sadly it’s underhyped so not many ppl are aware of how good it is :”)) as for this fic, i try to make the writing itself as organic as possible so u can dive into this w/o knowing anything abt kiseijyuu except for the summary i included. there are similarities to the source material, mostly in how the plot flows, but the decisions the characters take & the motives behind them are, for the most part, different.
> 
> and so, this thing has the potential to be longer than what i’m used to so bear w/ me, yeah? lmk what u think luvs<3

**_Stage 1 – Metamorphosis_ **

I. Host and parasite

_someone on earth had a sudden thought._

* * *

last night hadn’t been a dream.

as if in a trance, satoshi stares at his right hand. at his sun-burnt, calloused fingers. at the persistent ink stains on the underside of his fingernails. at the normalcy of lines upon skin, forming patterns that define his handprint.

except that it isn’t. _it isn’t normal,_ the thought echoes in his mind in barely restrained hysterics.

“do you understand my speech?”

the sentence filters through satoshi’s brain in painfully slow stages. he feels like some kind of phantasmal being, separated from his body, from time and space, from reality itself, and the momentary lapse of cognizance dulls his ability to think. he eventually registers that he’s being talked to, but even then, he thoroughly ignores the context of the question and goes for the final deduction, which is:

“my hand’s talking.”

the — thing — on his hand takes its time to formulate a reply. when it eventually comes, its voice is completely void of emotion. “yes, i am. fortunately, the imperfect appropriation process hadn’t hindered my aptitude to grow into this form, which includes a mouth. hence, my ability to talk.”

satoshi’s eyes inevitably dart to the aforementioned mouth. an appendage that, eerily enough, bears strong resemblance to that of a human’s. except that it’s attached to the flesh of satoshi’s right palm, allowing him the view of its oral cavity every time the creature — entity, _demon,_ satoshi isn’t sure — opens it to talk.

sensing none of satoshi’s inner turmoil, it continues its monologue. “for our mutual benefit, i have spent last night going through your books,” it uses satoshi’s hand to point to where his japanese language textbooks are stacked on his desk, “—to learn your language. seeing as you’ve responded in the language that i’ve learned, i’ll assume that at the very least, you are familiar with it. however, i am now assessing your ability to form coherent thoughts. or the lack of it, since your reply had been less than satisfactory. may i ask, are you in any way intellectually challenged?”

it pauses, creepily similar to how humans would stop in the middle of a sentence to take a breather. _it doesn’t even have a nose,_ satoshi ponders absently. only one eye and a mouth, which are attached to satoshi’s right hand.

“my right hand’s calling me stupid.”

“ah, maybe his brain is damaged. perhaps it’s a good thing that i failed to take over the brain.”

satoshi sputters, the indirect insult serves as a brutal awakening. he stares hard at his right hand, hoping to seem tough and unafraid.

(he has a sinking feeling that he’s failing spectacularly, considering the little quip it had made about _eating his brain,_ but he would never admit it.)

“what are you,” he breathes out, “how did you end up—possessing my hand? and— and that talk about my brain, is it, was it your intention to take over my brain?” the notion belongs in a painfully cliché sci-fi flick, and satoshi fails to associate it with his life. “d-did you try to possess my whole body? while i was asleep? but you also said ‘imperfect,’ what does that— ugh, _nothing_ makes any—”

“so you _do_ possess the ability to form thoughts and words,” it says again, in a calm voice that reveals nothing. “however, i still doubt your intelligence because you lack coherence—”

“stop calling me stupid!” satoshi finally snaps. he tries to curl his fist in an attempt to shut it up, only to shiver in horror when he realizes he’s unable to do so.

the thing has control of his right hand.

it gives a low hum, as though deep in thought. in the moment of silence, satoshi takes the time to observe its—physical appearance, for lack of any other wordings. its one eye is brown in color, big and clear, glinting with wit and lucidity. above the eye is its mouth, the one that has spoken in polished words and enviable calm, projecting the thing’s capability to compute and communicate as well as humans do.

perhaps even _better_ than humans do.

the horror that has been simmering low in satoshi’s stomach seems to creep upwards, threatening to suffocate his lungs.

“my apologies. i may have acted rudely.” its one eye gives a little twitch, as if in remembrance. “rudeness is a concept conceived by humans, and though i do not care for it, i will take it upon myself to refrain from being rude. it would be quite a challenge to cohabitate if you were to bear animosity toward me.”

satoshi feels like his thought process should have returned to him at this point, but that’s definitely not the case when a _word_ it had said sends him into another backward spiral.

“co...habitate?” he voices out, incredulous.

“yes,” the thing answers, short and clipped. it continues to observe satoshi with its one eye, perceiving his every movement. “it means to share—”

“i _know_ what it means,” he barks, growing more and more agitated. “i just— what the _fuck._ the fucking fuck. i don’t— i didn’t ask for this!”

somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows that he’s not making any sense. but so is this predicament, so satoshi subconsciously allows himself a moment of folly.

“you didn’t have to,” it explains calmly, as though to console him. “it seemed like on the moment of my birth, i just happened upon you. and when i tried to consume your brain, i failed.”

the contrast between the cold, detached voice and its disturbing content is ridiculously unnerving, and satoshi’s defense mechanism kicks in at another mention of it eating his brain. reflexively, he swings his right arm — he can still move the limb, _thank god_ — to slam his palm onto the wall. he doesn’t even have an objective in mind, mostly running on instinct. at this very moment, his instinct is telling him that he doesn’t want to hear anything that alludes to the possibility of an unknown creature feeding on his grey matters.

basically, he just wants whatever now resides in his right hand to _shut the fuck up._

running on such simple directives, he certainly hasn’t prepared himself for the thing’s reaction.

satoshi watches as his hand changes shape at remarkable speed. the tips of his fingers are digging into the wall, preventing his palm from colliding with the flat surface. the flesh of it is no longer warm and malleable. instead, it’s tough and solid, resembling steel claws that make a dry, grating noise as they burrow into the wall.

satoshi exhales a shaky breath, caught between misplaced awe and absolute dread.

“please refrain from doing that,” the creature says, and satoshi can detect a hint of exasperation in its voice. the first sign of emotion it has projected in the span of their interaction. “i understand that you are befuddled, but inflicting harm on me wouldn’t benefit you in any way. in fact, your attempts will prove to be futile because i am very competent at defending myself.”

the creature relays its thoughts with impeccable calmness, exuding a quiet confidence that creates a sense of faux security. satoshi wants to deny its claims, but after seeing what the creature is capable of, he thinks it’ll be wiser to clamp his mouth shut.

“i assume that you have questions,” it says, giving no time for satoshi to react as it morphs once again. this time, its one eye relocates to the tip of his index finger, stretching the digit so that their eyes are on the same level. satoshi doesn’t feel the stretch, and has a moment of odd relief for that fact. he certainly doesn’t want to feel the way his index finger turns into something elastic and rubber-like.

 _so it can morph and stretch_. satoshi files the information in his brain, trying his hardest not to turn hysterical.

after a deep breath or two, which he’s not really sure he has exhaled properly, satoshi begins with his first inquiry.

“so last night... was real.”

it feels more like a statement than a question, but the thing answers nonetheless. “yes, it was,” it confirms. “i’m not sure what my initial form was, but i remember my very first directive. it didn’t feel like a thought, more like an... instilled command from inside of my mind.”

satoshi dreads the answer, but he still asks: “what was this... command?”

for a moment, it grows silent. it snaps out of its pondering after some seconds, brown eye peering into satoshi’s own. “to take over the brain.”

that doesn’t sound any less horrifying even after hearing it so many times, satoshi thinks.

“but you failed,” he remarks instead, hoping to mask the tremor in his voice.

“i did,” it admits easily. “you were wearing an appendage that blocked my entrance to your brain through the ears.”

satoshi gives an involuntary shudder at the admission, suddenly grateful that he hasn’t fixed the bad habit of plugging his earphones in before going to sleep.

“after that, i tried making my way through the nose, but you woke up and sneezed me out. my next attempt was to burrow into your right hand, but you used some sort of cord to bind the upper portion of your arm, effectively cutting off my journey toward your brain. as a result, i was only capable of eating your right hand.”

it all comes back to satoshi in forms of flashes. he remembers that something had woken him up — a weird shaped snake that has a drill-like appendage on its front end. he remembers how it had pierced through the skin of his right hand and how he had tied his earphone cord around his upper arm to prevent it from climbing upward.

nino had barged into his room not long after, demanding to know what the racket was all about. by the time of his arrival, any trace of the strange snake had disappeared, leaving satoshi confused and disoriented.

in the end, he had no choice but to dismiss it as a very realistic, shitty dream. no such luck.

it had all actually _happened._

 _“fuck,”_ satoshi says, loading all of his conflicting emotions into one syllable. “fuck, i’m so lucky i have great reflexes.” at that moment a thought enters his brain, and he whips his head to address the creature. “are you—” he gulps, not wanting to form it into words. it’d make it real. after a big lungful of air, he steels his resolve and continues. “are you still trying to— to eat my brain?”

with an air of utmost indifference, the creature answers: “i would’ve done so if i was capable to do that. unfortunately, it’s too late now that i’ve matured. i wouldn’t be able to take over your brain even if i wanted to.”

an honest to god wave of relief, pure and untainted, washes over satoshi. he’s never been the best at academics, but he’s always been above average in phys ed. if there’s one thing he can be proud of, it’s his impeccable reflexes. all those years of dancing during primary school pays off, and satoshi’s brain stays intact thanks to that.

however, it only takes one look at his deformed right hand for him to succumb to misery all over again.

“but now i have a freakin’ creature living in my right hand...” he mutters, low and dejected.

“that is correct,” the creature answers, even though satoshi hasn’t meant for it to be a question. “therefore, cohabitation is our only choice, because i’ve already matured without succeeding to eat your brain—”

“please don’t say ‘eat’—”

“to _consume_ your brain,” it corrects itself, looking thoughtful and solemn. as if by exchanging the verb, it has done satoshi a great favor. it’s a fucking _synonym,_ but satoshi doesn’t point it out.

he regards the thing once again, finding the guts to let out a scoff. he has an idea that bluffing wouldn’t do him much good against this creature, but decides to do it, anyway. he refuses to look small and helpless in front of this alien. this... _parasite._

afterall, he still has complete control of the rest of his body.

“i can just cut you off of my body, now, can’t i?”

“and what will that achieve?” it asks, peering into satoshi’s eyes. “i only see the demerits. i would shrivel up and die from lack of nutrients, and you would lose your dominant right hand. i can’t think of any logical reason as to why you would prefer having an imperfect form.”

satoshi is, justifiably, at his wit’s end. “anything is better than having an alien live in your body!”

“alien? whatever is that?”

satoshi gawks, incredulous that the creature chooses to focus on _that_ part of his sentence.

“it’s... it’s the name of something that doesn’t come from this earth?” he answers, the end of his sentence lilting into a question. “like, coming from outer space or whatever. wait, why are we even talking about this? i need to figure out what to do with you!”

“hmm,” the thing voices out, “truthfully, i have no idea where i came from. but seeing as i’m currently a part of your body, wouldn’t that make me a resident of earth alongside yourself?”

satoshi opens his mouth to argue, finding none that wouldn’t come off as illogical and/or petty. he begrudgingly closes it again.

“that is what i thought,” it says in finality, taking satoshi’s failure to answer as a sign to end the discussion.

for a moment, no one breaks the quiet. the creature seems to see no merit in continuing their conversation, and satoshi is too busy teeming in his own thoughts. he wonders what’s next, what the correct step to do, and wonders if killing the creature by hacking off his own hand would be the best course of action. an ounce of hesitation makes itself known at the idea, and satoshi twists his mouth when the thought passes. he kind of hates himself for being cowardly.

suddenly, the creature calls for his attention.

“ohno satoshi,” it says, and satoshi has to grit his teeth to keep from shivering. he doesn’t like the way his name sounds in that clear, clinical voice. “i am quite tired from studying all night, so i’ll go to sleep.”

 _sleep?_ satoshi thinks. so it does experience fatigue, just like any other living organism. satoshi feels a moment of elation, because this is his chance to—

“do not forget,” it swiftly says, as if fine-tuned to the workings of satoshi’s mind. “i have ways of protecting myself. i greatly value my own life, and i won’t hesitate in using whatever means possible to protect it.”

an image of steely claws, sharp and strong enough to stab into solid wall, appears behind satoshi’s eyelids. it robs him of his capability to form a proper response.

“i’m going to sleep now,” it repeats, “please use me with care.”

the creature does as it has said. it falls asleep, closing its eye and mouth. satoshi’s right hand morphs into its initial shape, looking as normal as a hand can be. he flexes his fingers, counts to five, and takes a deep breath. he has regained full control of it.

perhaps the last hour had been a dream, after all.

with that in mind, satoshi averts his eyes from the markings on his wall. from the five sizeable dents that the creature had made. he wills them to disappear, finding the attempt to be extremely futile when they stay where they are, starkly conspicuous. like they’re mocking him in some way.

closing his eyes, satoshi wonders if there was any way to wake up from this nightmare.

* * *

_“all forms of life must be protected.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the creature in satoshi’s hand is still referred to as “it” bc this chapter is fully from satoshi’s pov & he still regards it as a thing.
> 
> ps. the first two to three chapters will mostly focus on satoshi & migi’s relationship so if ur horny for skr sho......dw i’m horny 4 him 2. he’ll show up eventually pls trust me, a fellow hornie,


	2. What’s in a name?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like i said, the first two or three chapters will focus on satoshi & migi’s meeting/relationship. but there are hints of sho throughout this lil chapter! c; enjoy!

II. What’s in a name?

* * *

satoshi had learned a lot of things in the span of two days.

granted, he hadn’t considered any of it necessary knowledge; everything was forced upon him, more like. but he reckons his options were limited when he had to go face to face with a _flying dog,_ which image should be gone from his head by now.

no such luck.

satoshi lets out a woeful groan and stuffs his head underneath a pillow. unfortunately, it does nothing to muffle the continuous sound of his laptop’s keyboard, click-clacking away against the otherwise silent backdrop of his bedroom. he opens an eye to sneak a glance at his desk, where the creature inhabiting his right hand currently sits. its one eye is trained on the screen, calm and intent.

“will you stop,” satoshi complains, if only to spite the creature. it doesn’t grace satoshi with a reaction; simply continues to scan whatever words are lined up on the screen. just as satoshi considers throwing a pillow at it, the answer comes in a — now familiar — smooth, steady voice.

“i need to study, satoshi,” the alien reasons, “do you want me to neglect my studies, therefore risking our chance at survival should we encounter another one of my species?”

satoshi clenches his jaw. yeah, that’s one more thing to think about.

in the eighteen years that he’s lived, satoshi had never considered death to be a serious threat in his everyday life. like any other student, his woes consist of, but aren’t limited to: grades, attendance, club activities, and the occasional identity crisis. there’s also the topic of sex and relationships, which he sadly lacks action in.

it doesn’t matter. satoshi is in no hurry to pursue a relationship, anyway.

(he convinces himself that his reluctance to get a boyfriend or a girlfriend has nothing to do with a certain boy, whose big, glossy eyes and toothy smiles still haunt satoshi’s dreams until this day.)

all in all, he had led a pretty normal life, void of threats to his life.

it all took a one-eighty when that damned dog decided to attack him two days ago. to be exact, it had engaged the creature in his hand, but considering how it’s attached to satoshi’s whole being, he had been dragged to witness their combat. he had even participated, if running away from a dog which head had split into a pair of gruesome-looking wings could be considered _participating._

“do you need to do that every single time?” satoshi wonders, and when the creature asks to be provided context, he purses his lips before answering: “do you need to... take out the heart every single time?”

the creature stops whatever its doing to regard satoshi with a single eye. the weight of its gaze is disconcerting, but satoshi locks all of his muscles and wills himself not to fidget.

“no,” it eventually answers, “i don’t need to aim for the heart every single time, but it’s the easiest way to ensure instant kill.” it hops from satoshi’s desk chair and approaches him on pseudo-legs, its gait similar to a waddle. in a weird moment of disconnect, satoshi can almost consider it cute. almost. the next words out of the alien’s mouth destroy the effect. “like i’ve told you yesterday, my species is supposed to occupy the head of its host. it warrants total takeover of the brain, but also makes the rest of the body vulnerable, because an infected host still retains its original physiology from the neck down.”

“making it the weak point,” satoshi concludes with a huff. it alarms him that he manages to make such a detached observation, but he supposes his adaptive nature as a human has started to kick in. after the attack with the dog, (and its fleshy, grotesque wings,) his self-defense mechanism had decided that the surefire way to protect his own life is to work with the parasitic monster in his right hand. whether he likes it or not.

“that’s correct,” it confirms. “theoretically, the easiest way to kill my species is by killing or destroying the host’s body. a living organism’s weakest point is its heart, so it’s only logical to concentrate my attacks on the organ.”

satoshi tries not to shudder at the imagery. thankfully, they haven’t encountered any alien parasite with a human as its host, so satoshi hasn’t witnessed anything that might scar him for life. before his imagination decides to get creative and work against him, satoshi hears the creature speak, calling for his attention.

“are you done with the questions? i need to go back to—”

in a spur of the moment, satoshi cuts it off. “one more thing,” he hurries to say, “do you have any idea how many of you are out there?”

it’s engulfed in a solemn kind of silence as satoshi awaits its reply. the creature’s eye is directed at the ground, gleaming with _something_ that feels eerily familiar. satoshi wouldn’t go as far as saying that the alien is _sad,_ but it’s the closest emotion it’s projecting right now. there’s a strange aura of melancholy around the creature, permeating the air.

looking at it now, satoshi almost feels bad.

“to be honest, i do not know,” it finally admits, any trace of vulnerability dissipating into thin air. “i don’t know how many of us are there, or where we came from. it’s quite disconcerting that i know so little about myself, but i strive to gather as much intelligence as i go. ignorance is no excuse to succumb to idleness.”

if there’s anything satoshi admires about the creature, it’s its drive to learn and its subsequent ability to absorb knowledge.

“do you want to find more of your kind?” satoshi asks, genuinely curious. he’s not fond of the idea, to be perfectly honest, but decides to prepare for the bitter pill. he thinks of it as gathering intel of some sorts, because there’s no way of knowing how long the strange alliance between them will last. satoshi hasn’t experienced anything impactful enough to make him want to saw his own hand off, but should that moment arrive, he’d better be prepared.

knowledge for knowledge, he thinks.

“i’m not partial to the idea,” it confesses, “as much as i’d like to gather information about my existence, it seems like most, if not all, of my kind would consider me a threat. like the one from yesterday,” it’s most definitely talking about the dog, and satoshi squashes down the urge to flinch, “—it was seriously trying to kill me— _us._ i’m ninety-nine percent sure that it was suspicious of our intentions, considering your human brain stays intact. you, it believed, were a serious threat.”

for a moment, satoshi grasps for words. he loathes to admit it, but he feels like the gap between their strength is fairly obvious. he’s pathetically weak compared to the alien, so why would its kin believed him to be a threat? the question swims in his head, but the only thing satoshi successfully delivers is a weak, breathy: “me?”

“yes, you,” the creature repeats. “you, or humans in general, are a threat to us.” it forms a hand-like appendage with one of its limbs, pointing a pseudo-finger at itself, and then at satoshi. “and as long as i’m attached to you, they’d continue to see me as a corresponding threat. that’s why i’m quite reluctant to meet more of my species. i’m not fond of fighting, but if push comes to shove, i have to make sure that i come out victorious.” the limb retracts itself, and it turns tacit as it waits for satoshi’s reply.

momentarily forgetting the issue of him being a threat to an alien cult capable of morphing into blades and various other appendages, satoshi’s eyebrows climb up the cliff of his forehead. he doesn’t have to be a genius to know what _being victorious_ implies. he’s always thought that the creature doesn’t care for empathy, but its lack of aversion to killing its own species — which would be an equivalent to murder for satoshi — is more than a little disturbing.

“man, you’re really heartless, aren’t you?” he announces, reflexively voicing out his thoughts.

“i am not a man,” the creature declares. satoshi bites back an amused smirk, finding it oddly cute that the creature feels the need to correct him. “seeing as i don’t have a reproductive organ, i assume that _sexless_ would be the correct term to identify me. in human theory, anyway.” it morphs again, stretching two of its limbs. with the eyes attached to each end, it scans the words on satoshi’s laptop. “i honestly don’t care. you can refer to me as whatever.”

at that, satoshi’s eyes go round almost involuntarily. it’s a habit that comes naturally to him every time an idea flits through his mind. these ideas aren’t always _good,_ but he blurts it out, anyway.

“hey, don’t you want a name?”

“a name?” it repeats, its single eye big and glossy. “i don’t really care about names. humans are very weird in that aspect, actually. do you really feel the need to put a label on everything?”

“hey, don’t get all philosophical on me,” satoshi counters, rolling his eyes when the creature opens its mouth once again. before it can say anything — most likely to give him a lecture on how _weird humans are_ — satoshi shakes his arm, jolting the alien and effectively cutting off its speech. if it was annoyed by the gesture, it doesn’t bother to express it. “it’s simply convenient,” satoshi quickly adds, trying to reason with it in a logical way by catering to its pragmatic and efficient line of thinking. “now that we know there’s more of your kind out there, don’t you think i’ll need a more specific way to refer to you? ‘cause from my standpoint, all of you are _creatures,_ or _aliens,_ or _entities,_ ” he lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “gotta call you by something other than those. it’ll be easier for you and i to communicate.”

“hmm,” it voices out, nonchalant. some seconds pass before the creature finally relents. “alright, then. i’m not familiar with names, though. you pick one for me.”

satoshi blinks, not expecting this development. “me?”

satoshi blinks again when he realizes that he’s said that twice along the span of this conversation.

“you were the one who suggested it, weren’t you?” the creature asks back, morphing back into the shape of a hand so it can level its gaze with satoshi’s. “take responsibility.”

“uh,” satoshi voices out, totally flabbergasted. it hadn’t crossed his mind that the alien would ask for this favor. for him to be the one to pick a name for it to use.

satoshi has to admit, it’s nothing trivial. he considers himself to be an emotional person, sometimes crossing into the realm of sentimental when he’s overwhelmed, so it’s only natural he won’t take this lightly.

the creature may be irritating and unsympathetic, but it doesn’t deserve a half-assed name. as it had expressed, humans are weird like that, and satoshi willfully accepts the notion. names are important, and even though satoshi wouldn’t be able to explain it properly or logically, he still stands by the belief. he’s human, after all.

with that in mind, he looks at the creature. at its fascinating physiology, the strength that comes with it, its strange detachedness, its bottomless thirst for knowledge, and the first thing that comes to mind is—

“don’t even think about giving me a name based on a human you know. or any human name, for that matter.”

satoshi doesn’t know which startles him more: the creature’s flat-out refusal or the realization that he was considering to give it his father’s namesake.

“why not?” he asks, genuinely curious. “didn’t you say you don’t care for names?”

the creature falls silent in response, seemingly to gather its thought on the matter. satoshi allows it the time to ponder, busying his other hand with the frayed edges of his pillowcase.

“i’m not human,” it eventually reasons, “i’ve tried many times to make sense of my kind’s relationship to humans, but i still haven’t... procured a clear picture. there’s also the matter of my less than ideal form, so it’s harder for me to conduct more... thorough experiments.” satoshi really doesn’t want to know what counts as a _thorough experiment_ in its book. “and so, i haven’t come to a conclusion. but this, i know crystal clear: i’m not human. so i’d appreciate it if you don’t burden me with human qualities.” it takes a breather, passing the question to satoshi. “you were thinking about giving me a human name, weren’t you?”

satoshi doesn’t nod, but it trudges on. “whose?”

it’s a strange feeling, the idea of sharing his feelings with a creature he knows to be devoid of feelings. but satoshi, once more, stags it up to his humanness. “my father’s,” he admits, a roll of nostalgia unfolding in his heart. “he was a kind, respectful man. loved by all.”

“ah, so he’s dead.”

satoshi should be used to the creature’s coarseness by now, but that last retort makes him seriously consider stabbing it right in its stupid one eye. he puts a dampener on the wave of irritation that threatens to overwhelm him, unclenching his left fist before relaxing his fingers.

“be respectful of the dead,” he warns instead, making sure his voice doesn’t waver. “he was one of the most important people in my life. a family i treasured — still treasure.”

the alien lets out the equivalent of a sigh. “that’s exactly why i don’t want a human name. there’s bound to be... expectations. ones i know i’ll fail to fulfill, because i’m not human.”

it’s looking at satoshi with the same lucid, pragmatic gaze, adamant to defend its argument. it’s being awfully tenacious, despite the topic.

“sharing a name with him would do you some good, you know?” satoshi says for the sake of arguing, though he’s halfway through surrendering. “perhaps you’d take on some of his qualities.”

they’re not exactly hollow words. maybe the idea is a projection of satoshi’s sentimental part. a part that wishes for the creature to take on some of his late father’s qualities as a human. he doubts that its cold, pragmatic character is something alterable, but apparently a small part of him hopes.

not only for the sake of the creature, per se. satoshi surmises it’d be easier for them to work together if it knew how to empathize.

“no, satoshi,” the alien says in finality. “i’d rather not. just pick something simple, and... not human.”

“alright, alright,” satoshi yields, and then comes up with the simplest thing he can muster. “what about... migi?”

“migi?” the creature repeats, rolling the syllables on its tongue. its voice is clear and toneless as usual, but there’s a hint of incredulity in the glint of its eye. “migi, the japanese word for ‘right’?”

“yeah,” satoshi affirms, adjusting his sitting position. “you said you don’t want a human name. can’t think of any human with a name like ‘migi’.”

the alien scoffs. “that’s taking the essence of the word ‘simple’.”

a blush threatens to climb up satoshi’s neck, so he covers it with a scoff. “if you don’t want it—”

“very well,” it declares unceremoniously.

satoshi stares back at it, jaw unhinging. he closes his mouth, swallows once, and says, “you serious?”

the creature gives a nod. “migi,” it says, as if to give the name one final test. “call me by that name from now on.”

it’s using satoshi’s right hand to order him to call it by the name satoshi just helped pick. pompously, with an air of someone — _something?_ — whose name doesn’t directly translate to the word _right_ _handside_ _._ for some reason, the situation is too absurd. a disbelieving laugh forces itself out of satoshi’s mouth.

“what seems to be so funny?” it — _they,_ satoshi silently amends in his head, recalling the alien’s declaration to be gender neutral — ask.

“nothing,” satoshi answers, inky hair swaying with each movement. “it’s nothing. just... you’re named ‘migi’ because technically you’re a right hand. that’s taking the word _literally_ to the next level. you really okay with that?”

migi regards him with an incomprehensible gaze. “i did say i don’t care about names, yes?”

 _just before you were insisting not to be named after a human,_ satoshi thinks but doesn’t say. “yeah, yeah,” he agrees instead. and then, he lifts his right arm until they’re — in a sense — face to face.

“it’s nice to meet you, migi,” satoshi says, operating on force of habit.

“what is this?” migi asks, “our meeting was many days ago, satoshi.”

sort of anticipating this outcome, satoshi chuckles. “well, you’ve got a new name, now. it’s a... reintroduction.” just as migi is about to dart back to satoshi’s desk to undoubtedly _research_ about it, satoshi shakes his head. “don’t think too much into it, migi, just...” he heaves a breath, “it’s nice meeting you again.”

migi doesn’t show signs of replying, instead regards satoshi with a contemplative air. then they dart their gaze heavenward, back to satoshi, and eventually answer: “likewise.”

***

“the fuck, satoshi,” is the first thing that filters into satoshi’s ears when he descends down the stairs. it’s nino’s voice, predictably, and satoshi represses a sigh. “you’re running errands for mom on a weekend? don’t you have a date to go to? you’re in highschool, aren’t you?”

artfully, satoshi ignores the taunt. “i’m single by choice, thank you very much,” he says as a way of explanation. nino scoffs, returning to lounge on the couch without a care in the world. satoshi is tempted to make a comment, something along the lines of _pot calling the kettle black,_ but decides it’ll be wiser to keep his silence.

“stop teasing him, nino.”

their mother’s voice wafts from somewhere near the kitchen, and satoshi watches as she walks out of the dining area, an apron still slung around her neck. he approaches her, she smiles up at him, and satoshi easily burrows into her embrace. he likes that she’s a bit smaller than him, allowing her to fit snugly into his arms.

(he hasn’t forgotten the way she had protected him back then, when he was so much smaller than her. now that he’s grown bigger, just a bit stronger, he swears to be the one to keep her safe.)

she smells like miso, and satoshi takes a lungful of her scent before taking a step back.

“hey, mom,” he says, flashing her a smile with a teasing edge to it. “i’m up n’ rearin’ to go.”

he accompanies the sentence with an exaggerated salute, prompting a giggle out of her. “sweet, silly boy,” she says, stroking his cheek. he accepts the gesture with a laugh, knowing better than to interrupt when she gets in a doting mood. “i’m thankful that you always prioritize me, but it’s okay to take some time for yourself, you know.” her fingers are long, nails neatly trimmed. they’re soft and warm on his skin. “you’re so well behaved that sometimes i get worried, satoshi.”

“what’re you talking about, mom,” he says, “how can i refuse a request from the only woman in my life?”

muted pink blooms on his mother’s cheeks, but before satoshi can tease her further, nino’s voice beats him to it.

“dude, why’re you greasing up on your own mother,” nino interrupts, making fake retching noises as he goes. “don’t eat that shit up, mom. he doesn’t wanna date anyone ‘cause he’s still hung up on _sunshine boy,_ ” his brother continues, and satoshi silently curses his observant nature. they may not be related by blood, but nino has always been able to read him like an open book.

it’s practically miraculous that he hasn’t noticed migi’s presence.

“sunshine— oh, sho-chan?” his mother wonders out loud, and satoshi feels his whole body lock up at the mention of that name. she doesn’t notice his pause, continuing with a wistful tone of voice. “i haven’t seen the boy in forever, satoshi, i wonder how he’s doing.”

in all honesty, satoshi shares her sentiment, but he refrains from mentioning anything.

“he was the prettiest, cutest little thing,” (satoshi also shares that sentiment,) “must’ve grown into a handsome young man by now.”

thankfully, satoshi is saved from the obligation to reply when nino pipes up. “we wouldn’t know, would we, mom? satoshi’s too chicken to ask him to come visit.”

“shut the heck up, nino,” satoshi counters, finally giving in to the urge to mouth off. “‘s not like you’re any better. you’re twenty-four. find someone to bring home, already.”

nino lifts a hand to his chest and widens his eyes, mimicking a scandalized lady. satoshi can’t resist the grin that tugs at his mouth, even though he still feels a pang of annoyance at his words. “a teenager, lecturing me?”

with a big grin on his face, satoshi charges forward without preamble. his head collides with nino’s belly, and satoshi cackles when the older man lets out a quiet _oomph._ they wrestle around on the couch for a while, their mother’s chides of _‘be careful, you two’_ serving as background noise. satoshi manages to put nino in a headlock, putting his strength and reflexes to good use as he holds their position for up to ten seconds.

“i give, i give!” nino shouts, the sound almost like music to satoshi’s ear. he lets go of nino, but not without giving his brother the smuggest expression he can muster. nino gives him his best stink face in return. “my neck, ow. holy shit, i’m _old,_ ” he mourns, scratching the back of his head.

“my point exactly,” satoshi singsongs, getting a cushion on the face for his troubles.

satoshi laughs as he throws the offending pillow back at nino. “well, just remember about your old age next time we do this again,” he says, getting up from the couch and giving nino a little salute. “mom, i’m leaving now,” he calls out, waiting for her response of _‘be careful, dear!’_ to carry through the space before making his way to the front entrance.

to his surprise, nino also gets up from the couch and catches up to him. “i’ll walk you,” nino simply offers when satoshi gives him an imploring look.

when they’re out of their mother’s hearing range, nino turns to face him.

“hey, you’re going to the supermarket, right?” nino asks him, and satoshi nods easily in return.

the atmosphere takes a sudden turn, growing heavier in accordance to the grim line of nino’s mouth. satoshi does a double take, because it’s rare for his brother to take on this attitude. “don’t take too long, okay? come home as soon as you’re done.”

“nino,” satoshi says slowly, “i’m eighteen years old.”

nino heaves a sigh that sounds — and maybe feels — heavier than the world, pinching the bridge of his nose between a thumb and forefinger. when he looks up at satoshi again, he says: “you know about the mincemeat murders, right?

satoshi sucks in a sharp breath. he’s heard about it on the news, and through the gossips that circulate around the school. the mincemeat murders refer to the series of killings that have occurred around the world, characterized by the mangled state of the victims. they’ve all been ripped apart, missing considerable pounds of flesh and various organs. the forensics have found teeth marks on the bodies, not unlike those of an animal, but investigators have reasons to believe that the murders could only have been committed by humans.

or at least, creatures who have the capacity to _think_ as humans do.

in all honesty, satoshi already suspects that migi — or their kins — may have something to do with the murders. at least, they can fill satoshi in with unprecedented insight. the talk simply hasn’t come up, but satoshi has every intention to change that before the day is through.

“i know,” he directs his gaze to the floor, “it’s horrible.”

“it’s _inhuman,_ ” nino corrects, and satoshi bites his lip when he realizes nino most likely has no idea just how close that remark hits home. “in all of my years in the force, i’ve never seen something so...” satoshi sees the way nino’s shoulders tense, a clear sign of him suppressing a shudder. “horrific.”

satoshi is tempted to open his mouth and let the secrets spill, but the thought of endangering nino — and their mother — stops him from doing so. migi wouldn’t hesitate to protect their own life, and even though they’d spare satoshi’s life, he highly doubts that they’d be merciful to satoshi’s family.

“i don’t want mom to worry ‘cause i’ve told her that none of the murders have occurred near us.” nino breaks the moment of silence by continuing his speech, “but the truth is, the pattern of the murders keeps getting more and more unpredictable. we can’t be sure of anything at this point.”

satoshi stays quiet during his explanation, but he finally lifts his head to meet the older man’s gaze when quiet falls upon them once again. nino’s eyes are dark — a bit scared, a bit haunted — and satoshi wonders what he’s seen.

under the dim lighting of their genkan, nino suddenly looks more haggard than usual. more run-down. satoshi can only imagine the mental toll nino is under, having to work on such a horrifying case while keeping a cheery disposition at home.

“i’m serious, satoshi,” nino regards him with serious eyes, his voice turning a bit rough and tinted with urgency. “those mincemeat fuckers are still out there, so be careful. avoid less busy streets, and make sure to get home before dark.”

for a split second, satoshi drops his gaze to his right hand. migi isn’t sleeping, but they’re in a resting state, hiding under satoshi’s skin. they should be listening to everything right now. “i know, nino,” he eventually says, if only to ease his brother’s mind. “i’ll be careful. don’t worry.”

nino stares at him with solemn eyes, wariness still visible in their depth. satoshi makes a show of rolling his eyes, opting to take a playful route. “don’t worry,” he says again, laying a light punch on nino’s left bicep. “i’m the brother of a detective, yeah? i know how to be vigilant.”

and it’s true. nino might seem indifferent at first glance, but he made sure satoshi knew how to avoid danger and not be completely defenseless. after entering the police force, he’s become even more mindful of making sure his family stays safe, which satoshi counts as both a curse and a blessing. he leans towards the latter, at the moment.

“alright, satoshi,” nino eventually says, “i’ll let you go now. just be vigilant, okay? you’ll be alright, li’l brother.”

the last part sounds suspiciously like self-reassurance, but satoshi doesn’t call him out on it. he gives nino a one-armed hug before hurrying out the door, not wanting to worry his brother even further.

when he’s stepped outside into the chilly afternoon breeze, he turns to look at his house. as a family of three, they live a simple and moderate lifestyle, spending just enough to make each other content and happy. he won’t go as far as saying they’re the embodiment of a _perfect family,_ but he’s pretty sure that they genuinely love each other, and wish nothing but happiness for one another.

satoshi looks at his house. at the sturdy structure of its walls and the warmth that emanates from it. the very embodiment of _home,_ to which he would like to return to every day. he looks at his house, and satoshi gains another reason to cooperate with migi.

he won’t let danger befall his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> migi is so _fun_ to write y’all.....i think they’re prob my fave character to flesh out :3
> 
> and nino!!!! he’s fun to write too ahh i love him,,,, luv ohmiya n their nonexistent sense of personal space, too, so i made them brothers😊 this time, tho. for this story. no telling what idea might strike me next coz ohmiya & shojun place second on my otp wrecker(??) list.


	3. Threat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the first chapter from migi’s pov ahhh i’m nervous :"))

III. Threat

* * *

“mincemeat murders, huh?” satoshi says when they’re on their way home from running errands. a plastic bag hangs from his left wrist, making faint crinkling sounds every now and then. “you think it’s your kins?”

“it is likely,” migi — the name that they’ve begun using mere hours ago — answers in a low tone, making sure to hide under satoshi’s clothes. “i don’t experience hunger because i get my nutrients from your bloodstream, but it seems like my species, as living organisms, is meant to specialize in cannibalism. remember the dog from yesterday? it was eating another dog, wasn’t it?”

“ugh,” satoshi groans, the sound caught between disgust and horror. migi can’t understand why the act seemed to be so appalling to the human. the dog was just getting the sustenance it needed. the fact that its food had to be another dog was just that: _a fact._ it’s just the way things are.

nonetheless, migi supposes regular humans, weak-bodied and prone to emotions as they are, would feel nauseous when presented with a grotesque display. they still can’t fully fathom the reasoning, though. humans are the ones slaughtering animals without mercy. on certain occasions, humans also — willingly and generously — slaughter their own kind, and not even for the purpose of eating.

if you were to ask migi, they would say that without a doubt, humans are the deviant ones.

“you’re really eating humans, huh?” satoshi asks suddenly, breaking the solemn ambiance. “ever feel like you wanna eat me?”

“not me,” migi denies, “some of my kind, yes, the ones who infect humans. it’s possible that they feel the desire to eat humans, thus engaging in pseudo-cannibalism, but i have no desire to do so. and i don’t engage in things that are pointless.”

satoshi hums, head tilted towards the sky. migi doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence between them, so they let it simmer in the air. it won’t take long for satoshi to break it, anyway.

“by the way, i haven’t asked you,” satoshi inquires after taking the time to look right and left, “what would’ve happened if you succeeded in taking over my brain?”

just as predicted.

“you probably would’ve become a life form resembling a human, but with a head that transforms,” migi answers truthfully.

“yikes,” is satoshi’s response. “good thing you didn’t, huh?” he lets out a laugh, the sound a little dark and heavy. “you ate my right hand, though. hope that’s enough.”

even now, after they’ve long accepted there’s no way for them to take over satoshi’s brain, migi can’t deny that they still feel a semblance of curiosity. the interest is purely academic; migi just wants to know the difference between controlling a central nervous system and a limb.

would it be more complicated? would it be easier, given that migi would have no competition — i.e. satoshi — in steering the body of the host? what would it feel like, being in control of a whole body?

yet asking these questions wouldn’t bear fruit because now that migi has matured, it’s virtually impossible to—

migi halts their train of thought.

something is coming their way. it’s one of migi’s kind, giving off its signal so liberally migi comes to the conclusion that it must _want_ to be found. perhaps it’s intrigued by the distinctive signal migi gives off, since satoshi’s human brain is still intact. seeing as most parasites would consider humans a threat, migi has no idea why this one would want to interact with them.

in the face of an uncertain variable, migi would rather flight. they need to leave, migi concludes.

“satoshi, there’s one,” migi says, “it’s getting nearer.”

“huh?” satoshi gives them a look of utter puzzlement. “what’s one—oh.”

“yes,” migi confirms without bothering to match their line of thinking. “let’s leave.”

migi doesn’t experience surprise often. they find humans to be extremely puzzling at times, but they’ve also learned that humans have a penchant for setting up a routine; some sort of guideline to manage their daily activities. satoshi isn’t an exception — he isn’t completely predictable, but his behavior pattern stays within migi’s range of prediction, for the most part.

however, migi learns that they shouldn’t oversimplify humans when satoshi answers in a barely intelligible mutter: “let’s meet it.”

“what?” comes out of migi’s mouth without preamble. why would satoshi feel the need to establish communication with a species that preys on his kind? the notion is several kinds of illogical, but migi puts their curiosity in the backburner and opts to talk satoshi out of it. the encounter could prove to be lethal, and neither of them could afford that. “unlike the dog from yesterday, it’s not giving out a hostile signal, so now is our chance to—”

“all the more reason to try talking to it,” satoshi argues. with a slight quirk of his shoulder, he continues: “c’mon, what could possibly happen? i just wanna talk. wanna see what it looks like.”

satoshi is being unreasonable. he should have known that the parasite would take the form of a normal person, but with a head that can transform and morph into various shapes. shapes that include, but are not limited to, deadly weapons. migi has just told him so mere minutes ago, so why would he risk it?

migi knows satoshi is aware of the risks — he’s not stupid, after all — but they still reiterate: “it’d look like a normal human,” they explain, staying as calm as they possibly can. “now that you know, let’s go. it’s getting closer.”

“hmm,” satoshi gives a low hum and starts walking. a sentiment akin to relief washes over migi, but their reprieve only lasts as long as the next few feet.

“why are we going around in circles?” they ask, recognizing the streets to be different from the usual route satoshi often takes. upon realizing the emptiness of the streets, it dawns on migi that it’s been satoshi’s intention all along. that he’s deliberately disregarding migi’s warnings.

migi is pretty sure they’re incapable of feeling irritation, but satoshi’s unpredictable behavior makes something tick in the webbings of their mind.

“satoshi,” they begin, stern, “you are being unreasonable. let’s turn around and take the safer route, it’s not too late.”

the laugh that satoshi lets out in response carries not even a hint of mirth. it’s an unhappy, dark sound, something that migi wouldn’t normally associate with their human host.

“don’t be too serious, migi,” satoshi says, sounding amused. “i just wanna know what this monster _really_ looks like.” he peers down at migi, lifting his right arm so they can make eye contact. “aren’t you curious? this one’s infected a human, so it has to be smarter than the dog from yesterday.”

“all the more reason to avoid it,” migi reasons, their mind already running the possible culmination of this situation. some of them involves mortal danger, prompting migi to address satoshi in a more urgent manner. “satoshi, this could lead to—”

“let’s fight,” satoshi cuts them off for the nth time this afternoon alone. migi doesn’t know how to feel about that.

so they try to make sense of the logic behind the human’s decision. “what for? do you have an end goal in mind?”

their question seems to floor satoshi. the human’s eyes go wide, lips pursing as words seem to fail him. their thoughts aren’t connected in any way, so migi has no idea what passes through satoshi’s mind when his eyes glint in determination, as though gaining a new kind of conviction. he gazes down at migi and says: “‘for the sake of humanity’, or whatever, is probably what i’m supposed to say.” he sucks a breath only to let it out in a shaky exhale. the gleam in his eyes remains unchanging, making them seem bigger and wetter than usual. “but this parasite probably lives around here, and it’s infected a _human._ i don’t want it anywhere near my family.”

the expression on satoshi’s face is unlike anything migi has seen before. they consider satoshi to be passive and compliant, more often than not, so they have little to no idea on how to deal with the current satoshi.

amid the situation, the only thing that’s certain is satoshi’s resolve to see this through. he’s about to meet a living organism that feeds on his flesh, but for whatever reason, he seems to be... numb to fear. valiant, though unsettlingly reckless. recognizing the futility of changing satoshi’s mind, migi simply heaves a sigh and opts to offer the facts for satoshi to consider.

“the only way you can best a parasite with a human host is if you were to receive my assistance,” migi reminds him, “and you can’t make me do anything, satoshi. i’ve told you that i don’t favor fights.”

satoshi directs his gaze heavenward, contemplating his reply. and then, a flash of realization crosses over his visage, his expression turning into one of self-satisfaction. “look at it as some kind of payment. you’re living in my body, after all.”

the tick returns, but migi decides not to think too deeply of it. they choose to lay another fact down.

“i’ve also not hurt you in any way because you’ve been cooperative,” they mutter, but takes no action to stand in the way of satoshi and his... mission. they’re quiet as they make their way into the quieter part of town, where migi knows is full of empty or abandoned plots of land. people are scarce, especially at this hour. they must admit the area would make for a fine backdrop for a fight.

the other parasite’s signal is a constant presence in the corner of migi’s mind, a reminder of what’s to come. they don’t dwell on the risks — which range from _bad_ to _worst_ possible outcomes — for the time being, opting to ruminate satoshi’s behavior, instead.

ohno satoshi, migi has learned, is a reactive person. at face value, he holds a certain air; one that could be considered amicable, even innocent, but he can’t mask his bodily reactions to migi. even though he’s capable of hiding a frown or faking a smile, satoshi’s body spontaneously responds to things that affect him. his temperature spikes when he’s angry, beads of perspiration appear above the arch of his brows when he’s nervous, his heart thumps a particular beat when he’s genuinely happy, his breathing goes a certain rhythm when he’s upset — and within the short timespan of coexistence, migi has learned to read through it all.

that’s why they find it strange, how the workings of satoshi’s body show no signs of fear and/or disgust. those are the emotions which migi had expected him to exhibit in the face of confronting one of migi’s species with a human as its host.

migi ponders their own words— _numb to fear._ it may prove to be accurate, all things considered.

“how far?” satoshi asks calmly, stepping into an empty lot of land. they’re nearly boxed in; tall walls of concrete surround them from three directions. the only way in or out is the entrance to the lot, which is left open. seeing as this part of town is often devoid of people, migi is ninety percent confident that they won’t be disturbed.

“just around the block,” migi confirms, morphing and stretching out so they can be on the lookout. “it’ll be here soon, so—”

migi halts, the rest of their speech pushed to the back of their mind as they register another presence. “it’s here,” they declare, turning to face a figure that stands on the other side of the empty plot of land.

the person — _infected_ person, migi corrects — in front of them is an embodiment of the word ‘ordinary’. an ordinary face. ordinary body wrapped in ordinary clothing. just by looking at the host’s outer appearance, migi concludes that it has infected a male human. for the sake of convenience, migi dubs it as a _‘he’_ in their head.

“this is unheard of,” the newcomer says as a way of greeting, moving closer to where satoshi is standing. “that human’s brain is still intact. did you fail to infect him?”

he comes to a stop five meters away from them, and migi notes with relief that it’s still within their combat range.

in this situation, migi must show that they are, in fact, _not_ weak. posturing isn’t something they’re fond of, but it could be handy at times. they quickly morph, producing three blades that stretch from where satoshi’s fingers.

“stop right there,” they order, voice clear and authoritative. “do not come near us, and know that i won’t hesitate to attack if you touch him.”

despite migi’s warning, the parasite opens his mouth in a mockery of a grin, offering the view of sharp, jagged teeth. satoshi, for all his speech earlier, gasps at the sight of them. cold sweat begins to form on his temple, but he takes one look at migi’s offensive form and grits his teeth.

shoulders squared and eyes narrowed, satoshi addresses the parasite. “listen, here,” he begins, “i’m— i don’t care about you or the rest of your species. monsters, aliens, whatever, i’m not—” he takes a lungful of air, “just. get out of this neighborhood. this is my — _our_ — area, so take your leave, and—”

“a weak human, ordering me around,” the parasite notes, a displeased frown marring his features. “you’ve been too lenient to him, mr. right hand. why don’t you dispose of him?” the grin returns and widens, resembling anything but a human’s. “and move over to me.”

satoshi loses his speech for some five seconds. when he’s snapped out of his stupor and calls, “migi!” the parasite speaks again.

“so, what do you say?”

migi doesn’t rise to the bait. they regard the fellow parasite with a steady eye, countering with a logical: “relocation should not be possible at this point.”

the parasite scoffs, the sound mocking. “certainly, it isn’t possible for you to relocate to the head, considering its complex structure, but don’t you know?” his pupils seem to move in every direction as he talks, and migi hears satoshi gulp behind them. “moving from an arm to an arm is a simple matter.”

after relaying the explanation, the parasite splits the head of his host to make a longer limb, transforming the end into a sharp blade. he uses that very blade to cut his own hand off. blood pours freely from the gaping wound, splashing on the ground with a thick sound.

in the midst of their surprise, migi takes the time to note the phenomenon. _so that’s how we morph when the brain is properly infected,_ migi thinks. they also take note of the way satoshi takes a subconscious step backward. the way his breathing goes quicker with each passing moment.

“this is the spot for you,” the parasite says, stretching out what’s left of his severed arm. “come here, mr. right hand,” he beckons, “i’m feeling generous today so i’m offering you a place within my body. we’ll be much stronger together.”

migi ponders the information. certainly, coexisting with a fellow parasite would prove to be easier than depending on a human.

“kill him and come to me, mr. right hand,” he appeals, as though reading migi’s mind. “you don’t need to be dependent on a pathetic human.”

“migi…?” satoshi must be talking, but his voice is now too soft. a shiver traverses up and down his spine. his breathing gets a little labored. wide, brown eyes, pupils blown and shaking.

he’s afraid.

migi doesn’t feel anything.

they ponder once more, about how their life would be so much simpler if they accept the graciously extended invitation.

even so—

“you’re taking too long,” the parasite complains, taking a step forward. his blade swings precariously. “i’ll kill him myself so you won’t have a choice.”

migi moves. they know they’re fast — considerably faster than their opponent — and they have no qualms against using it to their advantage. in addition to that, the parasite in front of them is weighed down by his own arrogance. maybe it’s spent too long residing in a human’s head, interacting and communicating with humans, that it’s made itself prone to human emotions.

he’s been underestimating migi.

yet it all works in migi’s favor because pride is the deadliest among all sins.

perhaps now would be the time to make a derisive comment, but migi is preoccupied at the moment.

just as their opponent’s single blade aims for satoshi’s neck, migi uses one of theirs to cut it down. they elongate the remaining two at breakneck speed, leaving no margin for retaliation when the sharp ends slice through the host-body’s neck and torso.

it all happens too fast for satoshi’s eyes to catch, so his only reaction is to stumble on his feet when the parasite’s head lands with a quiet _splat_ on the ground.

“you—” the parasite, now shriveled up and close to perishing, groans. “how dare you— do this? that human—danger, dangerous… must…”

and then, just like that, it dies. the corpse looks nothing like a human, migi notes absentmindedly.

“migi.” all of a sudden satoshi whispers, the sound barely louder than the faint rustling of evening breeze. “did you just save me?”

“don’t misunderstand,” migi answers, “i simply chose the less risky option. we have no way of knowing if what he was saying was true.”

“you didn’t have to kill— “

“i did,” migi cuts him off, “he’d kill us if i didn’t.”

migi trusts satoshi to pick up on the unspoken message. ‘hostility’ and ‘bloodthirst’ are the strongest waves the parasites emit, and migi has known since the beginning that the encounter would result in one of two things.

to kill or to be killed.

satoshi is uncharacteristically silent on the rest of their way home, and migi makes use of the opportunity to acquire their well-deserved rest.

***

“so,” satoshi calls for migi once he’s ready for bed. “you’re still not gonna admit that you saved me?”

this again. migi swallows the urge to sigh. “i won’t bother doing that because the fact of the matter is: i did no such thing. i only value myself. dispose of that line of thinking and go to bed.”

with that final order, migi morphs back into satoshi’s hand, leaving the human to aimlessly curl and uncurl his fingers. he obeys, though, lying down on his bed while putting his hand up underneath the dim light of his tablelamp as though to commence a closer inspection.

“huh,” satoshi breathes out, “i can’t even tell if you’re being dishonest or just plain derisive.” he lets out a scoff, but his eyes are softer than his words when he says: “you’re confusing as fuck, y’know?”

migi hasn’t succumbed to slumber just yet, a stationary presence underneath satoshi’s skin. they’ve heard everything the boy has said.

 _likewise,_ is the last thing that passes through migi’s mind before tendrils of lethargy eventually drag them into the realm of unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> end a/n: holy shit i hope that action scene was comprehensible...? anyways,,,, a certain someone’s gonna make his appearance next chapter so👀 stay tuned👀💋❤


End file.
